Always and Never
by tomatojuice
Summary: Ernie's point of view on the day Hannah's mother was murdered. Slightly angsty with a little bit of self mutilation. Don't read if it offends you. ErnieHannah.


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**Enjoy!**

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Ernie Macmillan was not a morning person. Despite how well-put-together he usually appeared; mornings were the time someone might think otherwise. It wasn't his favorite time of day in the least. This day in particular, he did not feel good at all. He was even more tired than usual.

He groaned, heaved himself out of his yellow and black bed, and stumbled over to the mirror he shared with everyone in his dorm.

"If I do say so, you look a fright today!" It exclaimed, "Are you feeling ill?"

"I'm fine." He said groggily.

He glared at it and took in his appearance. His paleness was exaggerated in every aspect of his form. Dark purple circles under his light blue eyes made it look like he hadn't slept in days. He, actually, had gone to bed early the night before. He felt as if the much needed sleep had been so eagerly taken, that his desire to wake up was lessened considerably from normal. He winced at the thought of feeling so lagged all day. The last thing he wanted was to be behind on his schoolwork. It was difficult enough as it was.

His blonde hair was long and disheveled. It came past his ears, curled, and stuck out all over the place. After attempting to run his fingers through it, he grabbed his wand from his nightstand and charmed the knots out of it as he did every morning. When satisfied at his newly straightened hair, he replaced his wand. The blonde mop was back to its normal luster. No knots in sight.

"Much better darling! Isn't magic wonderful?"

_Just great, _he thought to himself as he yawned and pulled off his green _"Kiss Me I'm Irish_" T-shirt. It had been a gift from his old Irish aunt for his 16th birthday. She was constantly reminding him of his heritage at all of the family reunions. _"In Ireland, when I was your age…" _stories and the like. He liked being English just fine. It was amazing how far just nodding and smiling would get you.

Ernie stared at his pale, skinny torso self-consciously. He had lost a lot of weight ever since he joined the DA in fifth year. His stomach was gone, leaving subtle shadows of muscle. It was barely noticeable. Not that it mattered. He wasn't into sports or anything. Now he feared he might look slightly unhealthy. He hadn't had much of an appetite lately. One of his cousins had recently enlightened him on the cruel process of the meat industry. His stomach now sickened at the sight of the slaughtered animals every night in the Great Hall. People savagely dug into the flesh of some defenseless animal out of ignorance. He was somewhat of a vegetarian now. He concluded that this was the main reason for his sudden slim-down. Though the DA may have had something to do with it.

He tiredly closed his eyes and ran his fingers along the faint and sparse cuts along his forearms. The pressure he applied on the newest one sent faint shocks of pain through his arm, waking him up completely. He didn't think of it as 'slitting his wrists' or self-harm. It just made him feel more alive. Feel better. So that he could continue with his charade of perfect Prefect Ernie Macmillan every day. If he wasn't doing it, he would have been a complete wreck. Or so he believed. The stress of piles of homework and Prefect duties constantly weighed him down.

Finally he sighed and began to put on his uniform. He decided that he would go to the last ten minutes of breakfast today. His friends got worried when he wouldn't show. Justin didn't even bother waking him up in the mornings anymore. Ernie always woke up soon enough to make it to his classes. It was the result of some internal clock thing that wouldn't allow him to sleep past eight o'clock. For this reason everyone else was already gone by the time he woke. But, that was the way he liked it.

After rubbing off his Prefect badge until it gleamed, and slinging his book bag over his shoulder, he left the Hufflepuff dorms and began making his way up the stairs to the Great Hall.

The ceiling was cloudy and gray. This did nothing for his spirits that morning. There weren't that many people left, as he was late. His eyes scanned over the emptying Hufflepuff table looking for his friends. Hannah was sitting by herself towards the middle of the room. In the usual spot. He strode over and slid into a seat next to his best friend.

Hannah's face brightened at the sight of him. "You came today." She smiled at him. Ernie felt his stomach flip over. She had been making him feel strange lately. He always felt happy when he was around her. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was just the tiredness. He grinned lazily back at her, and began filling his plate with various fruits.

"Where are Susan and Justin?" he asked curiously.

"Oh. They went to the Owlery to send Justin's Mum a birthday card, or something like that." She explained as she sipped her pumpkin juice.

"Why couldn't they just send it back with the post this morning?" he asked confused.

Hannah got a puzzled look on her face. He found it strangely endearing. She shrugged.

"I don't know."

_They wanted an excuse to be alone together perhaps, _Ernie thought to himself.

It was a well-known rumor that Justin and Susan were dating. Ernie had scoffed at this, they simply fancied each other, but were _way _too proud to admit it. They weren't dating, but he knew they both would like to be. The constant flirting was nearly unbearable. They were almost as bad as Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger in Gryffindor.

He slowly picked at his breakfast and occasionally stole glances over at Hannah, for some reason. Her hair was a similar shade as his, and her eyes were honey-brown, but if you got close enough to them they had little flecks of gold around their centers. She was so innocent and lovely to him. Always polite and friendly, but also shy. He liked that about her though. They had been friends literally since the sandbox days, when their mothers had taken them to the same park. They had been inseparable when they discovered that they would be attending Hogwarts together. Being in the same House only amplified it.

Ernie watched her run a hand through her hair, pick a satisfactory lock, and twirl it in between her fingers. He would bet everything he owned that she didn't realize she was doing it. He wondered what she was thinking about.

Her eyes suddenly flicked over at him, and gave him a quizzical look.

"Are you alright Ernie?" she asked in her soft, melodic voice.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He smiled to convince her.

"You're looking a little pale."

"Just tired is all." He clarified, glancing at his watch. "Come on. We've got Herbology in five minutes."

She smiled. "Oh Right! I've been dying to see my roses all weekend."

"You're enjoying the unit on Muggle plants I see." He said teasingly as they stood and left the Hall.

"I can't help it; it's a relief not to be dealing with something that could bite your arm off. Roses are pretty _and_ harmless."

"Yeah, if you ignore the thorns." He said holding out his palm and showing her the tiny scrapes from their previous Herbology lesson.

"Why weren't you wearing gloves?"

"I didn't think it would be so dangerous…"

Hannah's laughter rang out like a song to him in the nearly empty Entrance Hall. His stomach started doing the somersaults again, and his ears began to feel warm.

"Pardon me, Miss, but are you _laughing_ at me?" He joked, feeling his mood being lifted.

Her cheeks had turned pink and her breathing was slightly ragged.

"Never Ernie, I was laughing _with_ you." She said, standing up straighter.

"Oh were you? I thought that both persons had to be laughing in order for that to work."

She gave him a look.

"You are laughing!"

"No I'm not."

He felt a grin creeping up onto his face again.

"You're impossible!"

"Well, don't come crying to me when your precious flowers attack you," he teased "I'll only laugh."

"With me or at me?"

"_At_ you of course. If you were crying I couldn't very well laugh _with_ you could I?"

She sniffled, and made a sad face.

"You are so _mean_." She stated finally, and stared at him expectantly.

He rolled his eyes.

"_Okay_. I'm sorry. Will you stop being angry with me?" he asked.

Her smile returned

"I can never stay angry at you, Ernie."

"…Funny how_ I_ end up apologizing when you're the one who started it."

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The greenhouse was sticky and hot, despite the cool weather outside. The sky was threatening rain with its ominous clouds and greenish-gray ambience. It was a stupid day. One of those where you don't know what to do with yourself. Ernie would have been restless were it a Saturday. He didn't like not having anything to do, and as much as he hated listening to teachers drone, he was glad for something to pay attention to. Especially if it helped his grades, which it usually did.

Justin and Susan had beaten them there and were already putting on their gardening attire. They both seemed to be in high spirits.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" Justin said reaching up to ruffle Ernie's hair.

Ernie slapped his hand away, and glared at him, pulling a pair of gloves from his bag. He was sure to remember them this time. The tiny cuts were nothing but irritating. They had been festering all weekend with no sign of healing. Probably, it had something to do with the magic-infected dirt, in which the devilish flowers were growing. And he wasn't about to go ask Madam Pomfrey for help. Especially for wounds he got from a _Muggle_ flower.

Hannah had gone over and was chatting with Susan at their section of the greenhouse table while tying an apron around her neck. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in a way that made Ernie want to touch it. He tried not to look at her when he took his place next to her at the flower-filled table. It was unavoidable. She turned to speak to him.

"Look. They've bloomed!" she gestured at her deep red roses. They had opened up over the weekend and now were big and full.

He nodded and managed to choke out, "I like them."

Ernie's flowers were satisfactory. They hadn't opened up as much as hers, but they still looked nice. They were faring much better than Weasley's across the table. The red-haired boy was furiously trying to stand his browning roses up straighter before Sprout came in and graded them on their results. Granger seemed to be scolding him on his terrible work.

"I don't _need_ a lecture, Hermione!"

"Someone's been slacking off eh?" Justin commented quietly, nudging Ernie.

"You can say that again." He replied. "Personally, I don't know how he became a Prefect. Bloody favoritism that's what it is. Old Dumbledore's always seemed to have a soft spot for that little hero trio."

"You'd think it would have been Potter. At least he's somewhat responsible." Justin said sprinkling a bit of water on his white roses. "I just suppose he's too busy with all of the You-Know-Who going's on, and things."

Ernie nodded and gazed down the rows of flowers.

"Sizing up the competition?" Justin asked teasingly.

_You could say that. _He thought, pushing his hair out of his face.

"Look at Longbottom's." He said in awe. "Absolute perfection."

The boy's blossoms were large and beautifully colored. He had white, red, pink, and dark purple all mixed in for a dazzling spectacle. It looked like Valentine's Day had vomited in his little plot. They all stood up curving romantically into each other, but had different heights as if they were making room so that you could see each individual bloom. Neville was crouched over them, tending them like they were his children. It even looked like he had de-thorned them.

"That makes mine feel ugly." Justin said jokingly. "Where did he get off being so rude?"

At that moment Professor Sprout chose to walk in. She had her normal mossy robes on and plants sticking out of her messy gray hair. Ron had seemed to give up on his flowers, and had buried his face in his hands, mumbling something about failing the easiest class there was.

"Alright class. I'll be coming around shortly to grade you on your work, after that you may do as you please with them. Just don't leave them all over the place for me to clean."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Yes Professor."

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

"That will be enough Mr. Finnegan!"

"Sorry Ma'am."

The class chuckled at Seamus' attempts at comedy. However, the air was tense for some inexplicable reason. A distant roll of thunder rumbled throughout the grounds, blanketing everything with a somewhat solemn mood. Sprout walked around and commented on everyone's roses, writing down the deserved grade onto a piece of parchment. Neville, of course, got the most praise for his work, and the highest grade. His round face flushed deeply at the compliments he received from his favorite teacher.

"This is what 'Outstanding' looks like, people!" Sprout had exclaimed.

"A storm's coming." Hannah mused quietly from her position next to Ernie. The rain began to beat down on the greenhouse loudly.

"Just another thing to ruin my day." He said, angrily pulling his graded roses out of the soil.

"Ernie!" Hannah exclaimed softly, "You're supposed to _cut_ the stems before you pull up the roots! You don't want the flowers to wilt do you?"

"Why? We're done with them aren't we?"

She sighed exasperatedly.

"_Yes_."

Ernie was confused. Why was she angry?

Justin grinned devilishly. He made a point of cutting one of his roses down at an angle.

"Mr. Macmillan, you are too shallow." He stated regally before going over to Hannah and dramatically kneeling in front of her, holding out the white rose.

"A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady."

Hannah smiled and took it, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

Ernie felt like smacking himself in the face.

"Don't I get one, Justin?" Susan pouted sadly.

"Of course, fair lady." He said pulling another one from behind his back, and presenting it to her. She giggled as he winked at her and returned to his place next to Ernie.

Ernie gasped when Justin forcefully elbowed him in the ribs.

_Oww…_

"Now's your chance!" he whispered. "Give Hannah a rose."

"_What?" _he asked incredulously, clutching his injured side. "I can't just give one to her after _that_. What was that all about anyway?"

"Simply opening the door for you. You need to learn how to impress a woman."

"_Impress—_," he lowered his voice, "You're crazy!"

"Just try it. I think she likes you."

Ernie's jaw fell open slightly. Justin rolled his eyes and grabbed his shears; swiftly chopping off one of Ernie's remaining blossoms. He thrust it into the Prefect's limp hands, and looked at him expectantly.

Ernie swallowed hard, and stared at the deep blood-red rose, feeling his ears turn warm. Suddenly, he was very thankful that his hair covered them.

_Well, it seems as if there is no way out of this. _

Just as he was about to turn to Hannah, the door to the greenhouse flew open; distracting him from his present inner battle. Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall stood there looking distressed and tired. No one particularly noticed her there. The rain muffled the sound of everything quite considerably. The woman's eyes were sad and glassy as Professor Sprout rushed over to her. They spoke in hushed tones for a while. Ernie watched Sprout glance over at where he was standing.

_Why is she looking at me?_

She looked over again before calling softly, "Miss Abbott?"

Hannah jumped at her name. She had also been watching the exchange curiously. The class had gotten quiet. Her hands began to tremble, and Justin's rose fell to the ground. This couldn't have meant anything good. Hannah murmured something nearly inaudible. Ernie began to feel his heart plummet with worry. Feeling suddenly protective, he touched her arm lightly, trailing down to her shaking fingers and giving them a small reassuring squeeze underneath the table. He barely felt her reciprocate before she gently let go and walked up to the two awaiting professors. McGonagall lead her out the door and shut it with a snap.

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The rest of the class was a blur to Ernie. Hannah hadn't come back, and he was extremely worried. As soon as they were dismissed, he took her things, which she had left behind, and rushed back into the castle through the rain. He had no idea where she could be, but nevertheless went to the Hufflepuff dorms to his only solace. The not knowing was the most difficult thing. His emotions had been a tangled mess for the past hour that he had suffered in the greenhouse.

'_Miss Abbott?'_

'_I think she likes you.'_

_The way her hand felt in his._

_Where was she?_

_What happened? _

_She had looked so scared._

They had been replaying in his head, driving him insane. He didn't know which emotions to feel. When he was safely alone in his dormitory, he dropped both bags detachedly onto his bed, which had already been made by the house-elves. He closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath trying to calm his nerves. Nervously, he lifted the corner of his mattress and pulled out his escape. The razorblade was such an innocent looking object. Ernie took off his cloak and shuffled into the bathroom off of their room locking the door behind him. The stone walls held up a mirror that didn't have a mind of its own, thankfully. He rolled back his sleeve to his elbow, before timidly looking at his reflection.

Ernie saw himself and the razor poised in his paused hand. He looked sick if anything. He was pale and sick. But of course no one took the time to notice. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

_Worthless_.

He wasn't important.

He didn't matter to anyone. Not to his parents, his professors, anyone. Not even a shadow of a romance existed between him and her, no matter what he wished was true.

He was just someone who sat in your class making impeccable grades and rubbing it in your face. He didn't really do anything of importance in your life. He would be your friend, but it wasn't anything very valuable.

_He only cares about himself._

Ernie felt water gathering in his eyes and a single tear roll down his glaring face.

Wiping it off angrily with his shoulder, he drug the blade across his arm creating a narrow three-inch long diagonal crevice in his skin. Closing his eyes, he heard the blade distantly clatter on the floor as the desired effect took place. He shuddered and sank to the floor feeling his problems seep out of him with the blood. An immense calm erupted inside of him as he watched the red stream down into his open hand. The color was vibrant.

Ernie was so tired. He laid his head on the marble floor and allowed the darkness to consume his vision.

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When Ernie woke, his arm thudded with a dull pain. The bleeding had stopped and was beginning to form a scab on his arm. Trails of dried blood meandered down into his hand like a river flowing to a lake. How long had he been asleep?

He jumped up to his feet and winced at aches in his neck and unused legs. Pulling his dogwood wand out of his pocket, he closed the wound fully so it wouldn't open up again. He watched the skin repair itself, and leave a faint mark in its stead. The pain, however, remained. Just as it was supposed to be.

Blinking, Ernie scrubbed the blood off carefully in the sink and was drying his hands when a loud banging came at the door. His breath caught slightly at the sudden noise.

"Ernie!" It was Justin. He sounded tired and agitated. "You've been in there all day. Don't you think it's about time to come out and face the evil?"

Ernie put his face in his hands and inhaled deeply.

_Hannah._

His eyes flew open. _How could he forget?_

Finally collecting himself, he flung the door open forcefully.

"Where is she?" he demanded, and was surprised to hear his voice crack from lack of use.

Justin looked down at the floor, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well urm…" he started softly. "They told us," The words hung there for a long moment.

"That her mum was murdered, by D-death Eaters." He barely whispered the last bit. A look of absolute disgust crept onto his face. A cynical smile made him look melancholy.

"W-what?" Ernie breathed.

Justin nodded curtly, and collapsed on his bed letting out a long sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

_Why?_

"Where's Hannah?"

"I don't know. She hasn't come back."

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It was late.

He had to find her.

The halls were empty, and occasionally lit up with flashes of lightning. The effect was eerie on the ghostly-gray stone walls. Portraits stared disapprovingly at him, but he didn't care. A beam of light from Ernie's wand led him to his destination. If she wasn't here then he didn't know where else to look. He had been up and down the castle and back again, looking for places she might be. Where he was now, had only just occurred to him. He felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

Glancing over his shoulder, he put out the light and muttered. _"Alohomora."_

The tiny wooden door creaked open revealing a small piece of the large darkened room it concealed. Ernie crouched through the entryway, into the room, quietly closing the little door behind him. Thunder peeled loudly outside of the slightly foggy windows, echoing throughout the caverns of the library.

The back entrance to the Hogwarts library was a very little known secret amongst the students and teachers. It was accessible through a three-foot high wooden door concealed by an ancient tapestry. The entrance itself was down a narrow and shadowy corridor of broom cupboards and such. Unlike the main door to the library, it was always locked so that a simple spell would admit you. Perhaps if you took the time to find it, you deserved to be allowed in. Ernie and Hannah had come across it the past year during Prefect duties. As far as he knew, they were the only ones who knew about it. Though, he had a growing suspicion that it might be used by the house-elves.

It opened to a tiny nook containing books about certain types of mushrooms and other fungi used in healing potions. This assured that no one ever found it. Ernie softly crept toward their spot. They would go there sometimes to study without getting interrupted. It had come in handy during the whole OWL's chaos in fifth year. It was around in the next alcove, where all of the atlases and old outdated dictionaries were stored.

At first he thought it was empty, but then he saw something stir in the shadows. A small sniffle admitted from it.

"Hannah?" he inquired softly.

They didn't respond.

Ernie got closer and knelt in front of them. It was definitely her. Her wide eyes looked up at him, and he could tell they were reddened and splotchy. Hannah looked exhausted.

He felt his heart wrench at the face she was giving him. Usually, those eyes were lit up with cheerfulness and contentment. Now they just looked scared and empty.

_What do I say to someone who has just lost their mother?_

He felt his hands reach over to her face, pushing her hair behind her ears. She shuddered.

"T-they told me what happened."

Her gaze dropped to the floor timidly and she leaned into his warm palms.

A deafening roar of thunder rattled the books in the shelves.

In that moment, something happened that surprised him greatly. Hannah threw her arms around his neck and was clutching desperately at the back of his uniform vest. Muffled sobs escaped from her trembling form. Nervously, he felt his arms settle themselves around her waist, and his head lean against hers.

Of course, Ernie had received a few hugs from Hannah in the past; but never with so much ferocity. He wished he could make everything better again, make her tears stop. Comforting crying people wasn't something he did very often as a (proud) Hogwarts Prefect. It seemed to be a difficult feat, even for Ernie Macmillan.

The fabric of her blouse was very soft, he noticed, as he awkwardly rubbed her back. He tried to ignore the feeling of her chest pressed up against him so.

_Professor Snape frolicking around in a ballerina costume…_

He forced an unnecessary bubble of laughter back down his throat, surprised at his skills in distracting himself.

"Ernie," she whimpered softly into his neck. "Don't you dare leave me."

He was confused, but then she continued.

"The way Mum did."

Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating a filthy, leather-bound map of ancient China.

"If you do," she choked on a sob, "I'll _kill_ you."

Tightening his arms around her waist, he pulled her ever closer to him, feeling a wetness seep through his vest onto his shoulder. Protectiveness engulfed his body like nothing he had ever felt before. The boy's eyes flashed in a moment of seething anger at the person who had caused his best friend's tears and her mother's death. Oh, what curses that damned Death Eater would be tortured with if he were here right now. He would regret uttering those fatal words.

_On second thought, I think I'd strangle him with my bare hands._

She trembled and his eyes softened.

He traced little circles on her back, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"It'll all work out okay." He assured her. "I'm positive."

Her breathing was ragged and uneven. It tickled the side of his neck, and under his ear, nearly making him shiver. The sensitivity of that spot had never occurred to him until that moment.

"How?" the girl's small voice replied.

Mustering up his best_comforting _voice he said. "I-I'm not sure, but I do know that we've done it before. With C-Cedric, and Susan's aunt, you know. Personally, I think us Hufflepuffs are pretty good at handling tragedies by now."

She grasped the fabric of his uniform tightly.

"But, nothing like this has ever happened to me before." She cried. "Ernie, you don't understand! I feel as if my heart's died. Like a huge chunk of it is completely gone! All of those m-memories are useless w-without her being here! This isn't something I can just get over. She _died,_ Ernie. She isn't coming back, and I'll never s-see her again."

_Wow. _

Ernie hadn't seen her so hysterical since they took the OWLs. And that wasn't exactly pretty.

Not exactly knowing how to respond, he just let her sob into him. It was now more forceful than ever; as if the information of her mother's death had finally sunken in, and she was fully letting it out. He moved one of his hands up to her neck, and massaged it gently, lightly pulling her closer, inhaling her sweet and familiar scent. It was nearly indescribable. A flawless mixture of vanilla and some sort of sweet-smelling flower that Ernie couldn't place. She had smelled like this for as long as he could remember.

Ernie tried as hard as he could not to enjoy the fact that his beautiful friend, was curled up so close to him. He reminded himself that she simply needed a shoulder to cry on, and that he just happened to be the person there. _Oh, but she was so warm._

The two Hufflepuffs remained like that for a while. Ernie wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours. When she finally began to calm, he asked, "Do you want to go back to the Common Room?"

Eventually he felt her nod against him. She seemed like a little lost child. Which, he concluded, she probably was.

Seemingly channeling some strange muse that told him what to do, he somewhat reluctantly pulled himself away from her warmth, standing. Her face was streaked with dried tears. Biting her lip, she gazed unfocused at the opposite shelf, replacing her arms loosely around her middle. He studied her for a moment before deciding a plan of action. Normally, Ernie took time to think through his decisions before making them, but desperate cases called for desperate action.

Hannah seemed surprised when he crouched down and wound her arms around his neck again. Placing one arm under her knees, and the other at her back, he lifted her from the dusty library floor. Painfully, he ignored the throbbing in his wrist. She was very light even to _him_; Un-athletic Ernie.

After a moment, she relaxed, leaning her head onto his chest and closing her eyes. The top of her head tickled his chin, but he didn't mind.

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After awkwardly ducking through the doorway, Ernie carried Hannah all the way back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. That night he stayed with her, watching her fitful sleep on the sofa, from the oriental rug in front of the glowing embers of the fireplace. He ran a hand softly up and down her arm until she calmed. It was then, that stormy night in the Hufflepuff Common Room, that he realized that he was needed. He was supposed to protect her no matter what. Always be there for her. Never leave her feeling alone. That was his purpose, and he was grateful for it.

A small hint of a smile grazed his lips, and he climbed up onto the huge overstuffed couch next to her. Immediately, he felt her snuggle into his skinny arms. Then, ever so softly, he bent his head down and pressed his lips onto her smooth forehead and tangled his fingers in her hair like he had always wanted to do.

He was there, and he would be there when she woke up in the morning.

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